


Victim

by warm_nostalgia



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angry John, BAMF John, Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fights, Kink Meme, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Groping, Protective John, Sexual Harassment, Undercover, as usual, sort of case-fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:10:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1887822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warm_nostalgia/pseuds/warm_nostalgia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the BBC Sherlock Kink Meme:</p><p>"Sherlock and John are trying to get information out of a guy for a case, so Sherlock does the questioning while John secretly observes. Sherlock poses as someone else, using a very mild-mannered persona to get the man talking. The problem starts when the man starts flirting with him and eventually attempting to grope him. Sherlock's reluctant to break character, so he just tries to playfully keep the man at bay. Meanwhile John is barely restraining himself, knowing Sherlock wouldn't want him to reveal himself.</p><p>The man somehow gets the drop on Sherlock, pins him or incapacitates him in some way and begins groping him unimpeded. Ragey!John comes to Sherlock's rescue."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Victim

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt here:  
> http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/22393.html?thread=131794041#t131794041
> 
> lame and awfully serious title but I couldn't find anything for this lil fic.

John grit his teeth as his boyfriend of nearly two months flirted with another man.

Well, all right, perhaps it wasn't that bad.

Clark Piper was a junkie with a criminal record of two accounts of sexual harassment and four accounts of robbery. Proving that there was a fifth to the robbery record required interrogation. Casual interrogation.

Ergo, Sherlock Holmes was dressed in skinny jeans, an old Cambridge hoodie, and laceless shoes on his feet, grinning falsely at Clark and resting a hand on his lower arm against the brick wall outside a public toilet. It was getting very dark in the park they were situated at. John stood behind a tree farther away, glaring and pretending to smoke a cigarette to look casual. His furtive glances over gained a strong anger when he saw Clark's hand on Sherlock's waist.

Sherlock only grinned farther, his hand over Clark's on his waist and raising his brows playfully. John's stomach roiled in disgust. He wanted to rip that bastard from his detective. He took the cigarette into his mouth and didn't inhale, then pulled it out and turned his head away for a moment. 

When he turned it back, Clark's hand was on Sherlock's rear. John inhaled the drifting smoke in the air and choked a moment. What the  _hell?_

Sherlock seemed to be taking it like a pro. He was still smiling, mischievously backing up until his back hit the wall. Then, in a moment, Sherlock had produced a lighter and a packet of cigarettes (the same pack in which he gave John his stick), shoving them toward the man. John could make out the murmured inquiry, and then the shake of Clark's head as the criminal moved forward. He ran his palm down Sherlock's chest as the detective pocketed the items into his hoodie's pockets.

John's eyes watched the hand, and it had been too dark to make it out, but he knew _exactly_ where it had gone by the flinch of Sherlock's body and his own hand coming down to pull away Clark Piper's.

John dropped his smoke and ground it out with his toe, growling and steaming silently. He ought to go over and grab him right now. But no, Sherlock specifically told him to wait it out. 

But then the next thing was what really broke John. 

Clark removed his hands for a moment, grinning in the moonlight, and seemed to be apologizing. But then he suddenly stopped mid-sentence and shoved Sherlock hard against the bricks, a large hand grabbing both of Sherlock's wrists and pinning him to the wall. His other hand shoved down Sherlock's jeans and groped him.  _Hard,_ it seemed, when Sherlock yelped and struggled a moment.

Sherlock was quickly silenced by Clark's mouth on his, hard enough to bruise, it looked like.

With a soldier's fury, John sprung into action, running across and grabbing the criminal. He tackled him to the ground and punched him hard across the face, straddling his hips. His fingers were curled into the other man's ratty shirt, and he was slamming Clark's head against the dewey grass over and over until he lost comprehension of how exactly he was hurting the man. 

Eventually he realized his name was being called several times, and large hands on his shoulders were pulling him away. 

" – _off_ of him! John, John... _John!_ Stop it, you'll kill him!" 

John was panting as the man on the ground groaned in pain and twitched. Once the red had faded from John's vision, he could see that Clark Piper was sporting a black eye, a cut to the cheek, and a nasty bloody nose. The doctor's shoulder and leg ached, and his knuckles were cut and bleeding. He turned and stumbled against Sherlock a moment, then pulled back. 

"Are you all right?" he breathed to his taller partner.

"Of course I'm all right. Not only a fifth charge of robbery, but another of sexual harassment. It's almost like Christmas," Sherlock replied, grabbing the handcuffs from John's back pocket and hauling the man up to his feet. There was a moan of protest. 

"He broke something! I'm sure!" Piper had cried. 

"No, sprained, and it's your ankle," John grit. "You're lucky."

"He's gonna get charged for this, I swear it. I swear it!" was the second protest.

"No one's going to take pity on a convicted criminal," Sherlock sighed, snapping the cuffs on behind the man's back. The detective retrieved his phone and dialed Lestrade, passing handcuffed Clark to John. "Yes, hello. We've got him. Offered to get me a watch from a warehouse and then proceeded to get a bit handsy, wouldn't you say, John? ...Yes, of course it's on the recorder. Come around quick. Same place, by the toilets."

 

* * *

 

 

"I'm lucky Lestrade let me out on this one," John sighed guiltily, staring at his now drying split knuckles. Sherlock hummed beside him in agreement as they walked up Baker Street. 

"Hey," John murmured quietly, glancing up at the consulting detective. "You sure you're all right? I mean..." 

"I'm fine, I promise. No damage done. Are you?" It seemed to come out a bit nervously from Sherlock. "He  _did_ try to kiss me."

"He  _did_ kiss you."

They lapsed into silence for a few seconds.

"I washed out my mouth in the restroom's sink and stole Lestrade's mints," Sherlock blurted.

John looked at him.

Sherlock pulled out the mint tin from his pocket and smiled at him. 

Then, in a matter of a few seconds, John was smiling back and pulled him up to their doorstep, giggling as he leaned up to kiss him on the lips softly. Sherlock winced and pulled back.

"Bit sensitive," he whispered.

"Oh, shit. Should've realized. Sorr – _mmmh..._ " John began to apologize, but was cut short with another kiss. He felt his shoulders hit the black wooden door and he grinned, a gentle hand in Sherlock's hair as two touched his hips. He ducked his head to break the kiss and looked up.

"Love you," he breathed out, cupping Sherlock's cheeks. 

Sherlock gave a lop-sided smile, and grabbed John's hands, kissing the dried bloodstains on his knuckles. " _Obviously_."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments. You should comment.


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